"Rosy Fingered Dwn, the Child of Morning"--
Homer's phrase--rises from the Blood Red Oceans--
a "child of morning" or one of "mourning"--no, no elegiac moods, none at all----
the birth of things and the first letter (roman alphabet)--where the rising sun meets the blood red horizons--and sky and ocean run together--
fluids of light--the blood red stains and flows of birth--
and blood red transforms into a blood "read"--
and the blood in the within worlds, inside capillary flows and floods, flowing outwo/ards into a sky-ocean--
no longer any difference--
as veins flow among each other and from their mingling arises the "child of morning"--a first sight/sound--an "a"--an "ah"--
ecstatic presence of life--emerging--
from oceanic dreams to sky--
No comments:
Post a Comment